


Not Much of a Man, but at Night I'm one Hell of a Lover

by My_OTP_is_Better



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Barebacking, Bottom Castiel, Castiel in the Bunker, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Humor, Human Castiel, M/M, Movie Night, Out Of Character Castiel, Season/Series 09, Songfic, Top Dean, Unbeta'ed, Virgin Castiel, that escalated quickly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-21 09:44:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1546337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_OTP_is_Better/pseuds/My_OTP_is_Better
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's movie night in the bunker, and Dean shows Cas a movie he's never seen before. His reaction is unexpected, to say the least.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Much of a Man, but at Night I'm one Hell of a Lover

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimers: I own nothing! I do not own "Supernatural", or any of its characters; they are the brain-children of Kripke, et. al.
> 
> I do not own "The Rocky Horror Picture Show", or "The Rocky Horror Show". These are registered trademarks/copyrighted, and belong to their respective owners.
> 
> P.S. I apologize for any continuity errors, but I just wrote this off the cuff. Enjoy!

As the credits began to roll, Dean turned toward Cas on the couch. “So, what did you think?”

“I enjoyed that film, although it was very strange. Why were they all singing?”

“‘The Rocky Horror Picture Show’ is a musical, Cas. That’s what they _do_ in musicals – sing.”

“Is this your favorite movie, Dean?” Sam, to his left, chuckled at that. He looked over at Kevin, sitting on the loveseat next to the couch and got an eye-roll of agreement.

“No, it’s not my favorite. _Dirty Harry_ is my favorite movie. But this is a cult classic! You just had to see it.”

“Kevin hadn’t seen it either,” Cas interjected.

“Kevin,” he started, looking over at the sleepy prophet, “had no excuse. But now this frankly appalling error has been corrected, and we can get on with our lives.”

“And to sleep,” Sam segued, looking at the clock on his cell phone. “It’s two in the morning.”

Kevin nodded, and slowly stood up. He shuffled towards his bedroom.

“I don’t think I’m ever going to get use to him not saying ‘goodnight’,” Dean muttered, grabbing the remote and hitting the stop button.

“He knows we’re the reason he can’t go home,” Sam responded. “I think you should cut him some slack if he forgoes niceties.”

“I thought it was because he was an only child,” Dean replied, and shrugged. He turned the TV off, and slowly stood up from the couch. He rubbed his stomach sleepily, and said, “Goodnight, Sammy. Let me know if he has any more nightmares, okay?”

“Okay. Night Dean, Cas,” he replied, turning in the same direction Kevin had taken. The bunker had at least twelve rooms, but the group tended to stick together: Sam took the bedroom next to Kevin’s so he could look out for him. Kevin had been having nightmares since the angels fell, a side-effect of his prophecy powers. Dean had offered to stay next to him too, but they found Dean’s hyper-awareness and light sleeping led to neither of them getting any sleep. He’d check on Kevin for the smallest noises, and would sometimes even _imagine_ noises when he was drunk.

Sam had said, “It’s okay Dean, _really_. I got this.”

Once they’d gotten Cas back to the bunker, it only seemed natural to put him in a room near Dean’s, so he could be protected too. With all four men in rooms on opposite sides of the shower room and in close proximity to the kitchen, everyone had settled down into their places.

“Goodnight, Sam,” Cas called to his retreating figure, and finally stood up from the couch.

As they walked the somewhat considerable distance between the viewing room and their bedrooms, Dean asked, “So who was your favorite character? I’m torn between Riff-Raff and Dr. Frank-n-Furter.”

“Although Rocky was interesting, I think Janet was my favorite.”

“Janet? Got a thing for Susan Sarandon? Heh, I sure do.”

“No, I... I understood her. And in one of the songs, I believe I identified with her.”

“Wait, why? Is it the virgin thing?”

When Sam and Dean had found Castiel, it had been the middle of the night. A reaper wearing a woman named April was straddling Cas’ lap, clad in lingerie. From an outsider’s perspective, it looked as if the two were about to have sex. But as they kicked the door in, guns at the ready, she had grabbed the angel blade in Cas’ pants pocket from a nearby chair. She held it to Cas’ chest. “One wrong move and the angel gets it.”

Cas’ eyes went wide and he struggled to get out from under her, very conscious of the small space between the blade and his skin. “April, please,” he started.

“When I bring you to Abbadon, she will be so pleased with me,” the woman gloated, eyeing Cas cruelly.

Sam had put his gun slowly on the floor, and Dean was in the process of doing the same. As Sam kicked his gun over, the woman got off the bed, eyes on the Winchesters. “You too Blondie,” she told Dean, and walked to where Sam’s gun had skittered. Dean kicked his gun over and as she bent down to pick up the weapons, her eyes momentarily left the boys. That was all the time Dean needed to pull The Colt from the waistband of his jeans and fire a shot into her skull. A flash of orange lit up beneath her skin and died.

Sam and Dean rushed towards the bed, where Cas was staring at them, wide-eyed. “I- I didn’t know,” he responded, seemingly frozen to the spot.

“It’s okay, we’ll talk later. Get dressed Cas – we gotta _go_ ,” Dean urged, realizing he’d shot a handgun in the middle of the night in a crowded apartment building. Cas hurriedly pulled his jeans and a shirt on, and tugged on his socks and shoes. He picked up the angel blade and bolted, following the boys to safety.

As Dean seemed to come out of his reverie, he said, “Sorry again about that April chick… but if it’s any consolation, I don’t think she was gonna bang you.”

“It’s forgiven. But… yes, to answer your question. I know what it is to see someone you desire, to yearn for their touch.”

“You mean ‘Touch-a, touch-a, touch-a, touch me’?” He chuckled a little to himself as Cas nodded.

They reached their rooms then, and completely seriously Cas said, “ _I was feeling done in, couldn’t win. I’d only ever kissed before…”_

“Wow, you must’ve really liked it…”

_“I thought there’s no use getting/ into heavy petting, it only leads to trouble and seat-wetting…”_

“You’re not even doing it right. You gotta sing, Cas,” Dean teased.

_“Now all I want to know, is how to go/ I’ve tasted blood and I want more…”_

“You okay, dude? How many beers did you drink?”

As he sang, he never broke Dean’s gaze, but very slowly moved closer to him: _“I’ll put up no resistance, I want to stay the distance/ I’ve got an_ itch _to scratch, I need assistance…”_

“I guess the answer’s a lot, then,” he responded more to himself than Cas.

Dean backed up as he moved closer, until he hit his closed door. Dean felt himself hardening and cursed internally.

_“And that’s just one small fraction, of the main attraction/ you need a friendly hand, and I need action…”_

He put a hand against the door, on the side of Dean’s head. With mere inches between the two, he reached the other hand down and rubbed at the bulge in Dean’s jeans. Dean shuddered in spite of himself, and opened his mouth to speak, a “Personal Space” on the tip of his tongue when Cas replied, “Don’t you _see,_ Dean? I finally found a way to express how I feel.” With that, he surged forward and met Dean’s lips.

Dean was shocked by the contact. When Cas drew away, his hand moved to Dean’s thigh, and he looked at Dean pleadingly. Dean brought a hand up to his tingling lips momentarily, eyes wide. He swallowed and asked, “You sure?”

Cas nodded and cupped his bulge again, fingers splaying over the zippered front. Dean reached to his left, and turned the knob to his bedroom door. They tumbled backwards a little, the weight of Cas pressed against him. As they regained their footing, Dean turned to Cas and ordered, “Lock the door.”

While Cas went to the door, Dean pulled his T-shirt over his head and began working on his belt. By the time Cas had returned, he was standing near the bed in his boxer shorts. “How far do you want this to go?” Dean asked, heart pounding when Cas fixed that gaze on him again.

His lips quirked into a small smirk and he pulled his own T-shirt off before replying, _“Touch-a, touch-a, touch-a, touch me/ I wanna be dirty. Thrill me, chill me, ful_ fill _me, creature of the night.”_

“I’m going to have a show-tunes fetish after tonight.”

Dean wasted no time. He pulled Cas to him and kissed him hard until they pulled back, breathless. His hands deftly undid Cas’ belt buckle, but had a bit of trouble with the button-fly. After he’d gotten it open, he pushed Cas back against the bed, watching him bounce. He grabbed Cas’ jeans and yanked them off, revealing Cas’ straining erection. Dean reached over to the nightstand and pulled out a bottle of lube. He tore himself away from Cas to look through the drawer. _“FUCK!”_

“What?” Cas asked, worried by Dean’s sudden shift in mood.

“I don’t have any condoms. I have to go borrow one from Sam…” He sounded resigned, like he knew what was coming next, and grabbed his jeans off the floor, preparing to step into them.

“Dean.”

Dean met Cas’ gaze as he pulled up the pants. “Yeah?”

“We don’t need it,” Cas replied, spreading his legs. Dean dropped his pants and pushed his underwear down too, and stepped out of them hurriedly. As he stood in between Cas’ legs, his hard cock curved up against his stomach as he reached forward on the bed for the lube. He slicked two fingers and dropped to his knees, pushing Cas’ knees up towards his body. Cas folded in on himself effortlessly, his cock throbbing against his stomach as Dean pressed a digit against his hole. Cas took a deep breath as Dean worked the finger in and began to move it around. The minor burn from the stretch was nothing to Castiel, and he pleaded, “Dean…”

Dean pulled the digit out slowly and re-lubed, before working two fingers into him. He pumped them in and out, getting Cas used to the intrusion. Cas squirmed a bit in discomfort, keeping his breathing deep and focusing on the soft feeling on Dean’s other hand stroking the inside of his thigh. He relaxed at the touch and Dean managed to crook his fingers in just the right way to stroke his prostate. As his fingers moved over it, Cas gave a surprised gasp and pushed back against them.

“ _More,_ ” Cas demanded, his hole clenching as Dean brushed it again.

            Dean again slid the fingers out slowly, and applied more lube. When the blunt tips of three fingers began to worry at Cas’ hole, Cas pushed his body against them, forcing himself to accept them. He groaned at the sensation, the pain sharper and more direct with the stretch so much greater. He breathed through it and his hands gripped the edge of the bed so he could get some leverage. When Dean seemed hesitant to move, Cas took it upon himself to work himself open on them. Dean knelt there, watching in amazement as the man fucked himself against his hand. He noticed Cas’ cock leaking pre-cum, and he used his other hand to give it a stroke, smearing the fluid along his shaft. He began to work his fingers in earnest, stroking Cas’ prostate every few thrusts in, and grinning mischievously when he felt the way it made Cas’ cock jump.

With his own cock aching from lack of touch, he asked, “Cas, you good?”

Cas’ breath shuddered as Dean stroked his prostate again, and responded, “Yeah.”

Dean eased the fingers out of Cas’ body and opened the lube. He squirted some in his palm and brushed the cool gel against his hole, before running it up and down his own cock. He sighed in relief at the contact, but forced himself to stop after he’d coated himself, instead grabbing the base. Dean held his cheeks open with the other hand and pressed the head of his cock against Cas’ entrance. He moved his hand to the back of Cas’ thigh, stroking it as he asked, “Are you ready?”

Cas nodded apprehensive but eager and Dean started to push in. He stilled after he felt Cas clench, but Cas ordered, “Just do it, Dean.” His voice grated with irritation at the uncomfortable feeling of not being filled enough to accept it. Dean pushed in again, bottoming out. Cas gave a sharp gasp at the sensation, his cock twitching against his stomach. With one hand, he pushed his leg back against Cas’ chest. With the other, he reached forward, stroking Cas in time to his thrusts. Cas hadn’t had time to adjust, but startled by the wonder of the act.

The feeling was nearly too much for Dean. Although he’d done this with a girl a few times and had even experimented a bit on himself (hence the lube), it was different this time. Cas was so eager and inexperienced and _bendy_ that he didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to keep this up.

“You feel so good Cas,” Dean breathed, angling his hips so his thrusts hit Cas’ prostate. Cas moaned in response at the feeling, and then grunted as Dean angled back into his normal rhythm. Despite the vocal display he’d put on, now that they were actually _having_ sex, Cas was quiet. He made a few noises here and there, but had barely spoken. Dean’s pace flagged and he bent his upper body down so he could meet Cas’ eyes.

“You okay?” he asked eyes wide as he mentally reprimanded himself for not thinking to ask sooner.

“Fine… It’s hard to relax,” he admitted, feeling suddenly self-conscious again.

Dean reached forward, and stroked along his cheek gently. “You wanna sing again?”

He cracked a smile, and soon Cas was matching with one of his own. He felt Cas’ body relax around him and he whispered, _“Touch me, I wanna be dirty/ thrill me, chill me, ful_ fill _me, creature of the night…”_

Dean leaned further down, the angle awkward as he bent to kiss Cas’ neck. Cas’ breath caught as he felt the lips on his skin, and he rolled his hips up against Dean. “I’m sorry I didn’t romance you enough,” Dean murmured, and that got Cas to let out a chuckle.

Dean straightened up, the moment _clearly_ over and rolled his hips smoothly, angling to brush Cas’ prostate every few strokes. Cas’ guttural moan triggered something in Dean, and his pace sped up. “I’m gonna come,” he warned, stroking Cas again. Cas rolled his hips up into Dean’s thrusts, and with a groan, Dean came. As it pumped out of him into Cas’ abused hole, Cas clenched around him. The sudden warmth was nearly overwhelming and although he was tired, Dean kept stroking Cas and thrusting until his erection would begin to wane. Cas felt the gentler slide of Dean’s length inside of him, his hand desperately trying to bring him off, too. Dean angled against his prostate again, and it was all over. As his blunt head pressed up against the tender spot, he shot onto his stomach and chest. His body went rigid and relaxed with his spasms, and he softly whispered _“Dean…”_

When Cas finally stopped shaking, Dean slowly pulled out. The fingertips on his other hand were flecked with cum from stroking Cas, and he stood up to his full height, eyeing the hand. With one hand holding the base of his cock, he brought the other to his mouth, his tongue peeking out to lick it clean. Captivated by the sight the man made, Cas shuddered again, his hole clenching. A little bit of Dean’s cum trickled from the hole with the force of the movement, and Dean eyed him lustily. He knew his refractory period wasn’t that short, but all Dean wanted to do was fuck him again. Cas, however, seemed to have the presence of mind to ask Dean for something to wipe himself clean. Dean tossed him one of his crumpled t-shirts from the ground and as Cas cleaned himself, Dean sat down next to him on the bed.

“So you okay, Cas?” he asked when he’d finished, and had righted himself on the bed.

“Sore, but happy.” He grinned slyly. “But now I’m dirty; I need a bath.” His eyes met Dean’s. “Would you like to join me?”

“ _God, yes_ ,” Dean replied, his cock suddenly back on board. They tugged on pajama pants and walked hand in hand to the shower room.

  _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

**Author's Note:**

> What did you think? I'd love to hear your thoughts. :)


End file.
